Chapter 57: First Steps Outside

Seraphine's POV

That night, Kaelen came again.

I heard his footsteps in the hallway and my entire body went rigid. The tray. The food. Another silent meal while he watched me like I was some kind of science experiment.

The door opened and he stepped inside, carrying dinner like always. But something felt different tonight. The air was heavier. Charged.

He set the tray on the desk, then pulled out the chair and sat. Not leaving. Not hovering by the door.

Staying.

I forced myself to walk over, to pick up the fork, to pretend this was normal. The food looked good—roasted chicken, vegetables, bread that was still warm. My stomach growled despite the knot of tension sitting in my chest.

Kaelen leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. Those dual-pupiled eyes tracked my every movement.

"Cordelia told you about the bakery."

Not a question. A statement.

I swallowed hard, nodded. "Yeah. She did."

Silence stretched between us. The bond hummed low and steady, a constant presence I couldn't ignore.

"Thank you," I said quietly, forcing the words out. "For arranging it."

He didn't acknowledge the thanks. Didn't even blink. Just kept watching me with that unreadable expression.

Then he spoke.

"Don't misunderstand. This isn't freedom."

His voice was calm. Controlled. But there was steel underneath, sharp and cutting.

I set down my fork slowly.

"Guards will be watching," he continued, his gaze never leaving mine. "Not always visible, but always there."

My hand tightened around the fork handle. I kept my face neutral, kept my breathing steady even as my heart started hammering.

He leaned forward slightly. "You run, I find you. You know how that ends."

His eyes flicked to my neck. To the mark.

The bond flared hot and sudden, like a brand being pressed against my sternum. Gold bled into his amber irises for just a second, and I felt it—the weight of the claim, the invisible chain tying me to him.

I couldn't breathe.

My wolf stirred uneasily, caught between submission and the urge to bare her teeth.

Petty asshole. Can't even let me have this one thing without rubbing it in.

But I didn't say it out loud. I just sat there, fork trembling slightly in my grip, and nodded.

"I understand."

Kaelen studied me for another long moment, then stood. The chair scraped against the floor, loud in the quiet room.

He walked to the door, stopped with his hand on the handle.

"The work starts tomorrow. Lucian will take you."

I looked up at him. His back was to me, broad shoulders tense beneath his shirt.

"I won't run."

The words came out stronger than I'd expected. More certain.

Because they were true. I wouldn't run. Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't. Not with Lyralei still missing. Not with this bond wrapped around my throat like a noose.

Kaelen turned his head slightly, just enough that I could see his profile. His expression was unreadable.

"Good."

Then he left.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was alone again.

I stared at the food, my appetite gone. The chicken was getting cold. The bread was losing its warmth.

Tomorrow. I'd leave this room tomorrow.

I should have felt relieved. Excited. Something other than this hollow dread sitting in my stomach.

But all I felt was tired.

---

I barely slept that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kaelen's face. Heard his voice. You run, I find you.

When dawn finally broke, I was already awake. Had been for hours.

I got out of bed and walked to the closet, staring at the limited options. Nothing fancy. Nothing that screamed prisoner. Just simple clothes that could pass for normal.

I chose a dark blue long-sleeve shirt and black jeans. Pulled my hair back into a braid. Stared at myself in the mirror.

The mark stood out against my skin, dark and deliberate. I reached up to touch it, then stopped myself.

No. Don't.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves jumping under my skin.

Almost one week. I've been locked in this room for almost one fucking week.

Six days of four walls and silence and my own thoughts eating me alive. Six days of watching the windows and wondering if I'd ever see the outside world again.

And now I would.

Another breath. Then another.

You can do this. It's just a bakery. Just work. You've done harder things.

The knock on the door made me jump.

"It's open," I called out, my voice steadier than I felt.

The door swung inward and Lucian stepped inside.

He looked the same as before—tall, broad-shouldered, with deep brown skin and black hair pulled back in a neat style. Amber eyes swept over me, assessing but not unkind.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He turned and started walking. I followed, my legs feeling shaky beneath me.

We moved through the hallway, past rooms I'd never seen, down stairs I'd only glimpsed from my window. Every step felt surreal. Like I was walking through a dream.

Or a trap.

The bond hummed steadily in my chest. Kaelen was somewhere in this house, probably watching. Probably waiting to see if I'd bolt.

I won't. I told you I won't.

But my body didn't believe it. My muscles were coiled tight, ready to run at the first sign of danger.

We reached the main entrance. Lucian pushed open the heavy wooden door, and sunlight poured in.

I stopped.

Just stopped, right there in the doorway, staring at the world outside.

Pines. Snow. Sky so blue it hurt to look at. Fresh air rushing in, the sunlight shining on me, no longer through that narrow window. This was so comfortable that I almost wanted to moan.

God.

I'd forgotten what it felt like. What freedom tasted like.

Lucian glanced back at me. "You coming?"

I forced my feet to move. Stepped over the threshold. Out of the house.

And kept going.

We walked down the path, gravel crunching beneath our shoes. I could see the forest in the distance, dark and endless. Could see the gardens, the outbuildings, the world stretching on forever.

My chest felt tight. My eyes stung.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

But fuck, it felt good. It felt so fucking good to be outside again.

We passed through the main gate—massive iron things that swung open silently—and suddenly we were beyond the estate grounds.

The road stretched ahead, winding down toward what must be the village. Trees lined both sides, their branches forming a canopy overhead.

I couldn't help it.

I stopped walking, tilted my head back, and closed my eyes. Let the sunlight warm my face. Let the breeze tangle in my hair.

Then I spread my arms wide and breathed.

"God, it feels good to be free again!"

The words burst out before I could stop them. Raw and honest and so, so stupid.